Forgotten Life
by SyberSnake13
Summary: Quidich accident side effects to a familly life. HPSS Slash. Mpreg. PostWar
1. Chapter 1

Title: Forgotten Life

Author: **SyberSnake**

Beta: **LostLenore**

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**Chapter 1**

Severus hurried down the corridors of St. Mungo's Hospital as fast as he could, it did not help that he was at the moment four months pregnant. He couldn't tell how many times he had made his way through there the last two days, since first hearing what had happened to Harry during his latest Quidditch match.

He felt terrified when he heard the news of Harry's accident. He didn't know any of the details, but he feared the worst. That Harry, his beloved husband of ten years had died. Nobody called him, not the Weasleys, nor Albus. His hormonal emotions had kicked in full force and conjured the most horrible consequences to this scenario, and he became horrified.

He was never sure he would be a good parent after how he himself grew up with a drunken father and a mother who was never there for him. Even after Harry and his colleagues assured him that he would do just fine and offered their help in any situation what may occur, he himself was never really sure. Now he could be left all alone with their children.

Only few second later his logical Slytherin mind reappeared and he got the situation under hand. He floo-called St. Mungo's and asked after the condition of his husband. He knew then Harry had been knocked down by one of the Bludgers and fallen almost 50 meters.This time Albus Dumbledore was not there to save him. Despite his fall being slowed down by some bystander, Harry suffered grave injures to both his body and mind.

The healers told him the damage to Harry's body could easily be repaired and they had taken care of the most serious injures but they feared he could have some brain damage from the impact of his body hitting the ground.

So Severus didn't loss anymore time, he called Minerva to ask her to take care of his children while he was away. As soon as she arrived, he was out the door heading directly to the hospital. He tried to be at Harry's side all the time, until the healers sent him home to get some rest and sleep. He knew he needed rest in his condition, but he didn't want to leave his beloved all alone. He knew how Harry hated hospitals. Albus was there most of the time to provide support for Harry and seeing Severus's dilemma, he offered to stay with Harry and promised to call when he woke up.

As Severus's luck would have it Harry woke up when he was not there. It made Severus more then frustrated by the time he arrived back at the hospital. He felt like he had been up for days, which was not too far from the truth. He hadn't slept more then three hours before Albus woke him up with the wonderful news, Harry was awake.

So here he was again feeling like running, but that would be very unbecoming for him, he would look just plain silly. He turned in the corridor where his husband was recovering and stopped dead when he heard shouting. It came from Harry's room; he could clearly recognize both Albus and Harry's voices. He moved to open the door, and felt like crying because of what he heard.

"You're lying. I never would touch that greasy git."

"Harry, my boy, please listen."

"No!" Harry backed away from the Headmaster who had reached out to touch his arm. "I have had enough of your lies and half truths. You can't manipulate me anymore." Harry turned away from the old man towards the door and was about to storm away when he noticed Severus standing there. He stopped for a moment, narrowing his green eyes.

Harry's green eyes flashed with hatred, no not Harry's, they were Potter's eyes. He could clearly remember these unforgivable eyes, as they look like green blazing fire which cut to his heart. He felt something break inside him because these were not his Harry's eyes, his eyes never looked at him with anger or hate in the last twelve years. They were the eyes of a sixteen year old Harry Potter, who blamed the lost of his godfather on him and Albus, who raged because he was not in the main information flow and he thought he had the right to be informed. But it never occurred to the young boy that his mind was an open book for the Dark Lord because he didn't learn Occlumency, something he blamed as well on Severus.

His obsidian eyes moved up to meet with Dumbledore's sorrowful blue eyes. And without further words or doubt he knew he had lost his Harry, maybe not to death. But in a way it was worst, to lose him to amnesia.

Harry momentarily froze then stormed past Severus. Left them both behind without saying anything to them, to him. Severus watched with a heartache as Potter walked down the corridor which led towards the closest exit, the younger man still limped slightly – he had broke his legs in the fall. With a sad look on Severus' face he watched as his beloved walked away from him without looking back. As Harry turned down the corridor and walked out his sight of vision, his heart clenched painfully as a thought entered his mind: '_What if he never saw Harry again?'_

"Everything will be fine Severus." said Dumbledore in a reassuring voice. Severus looked back at him and tried to smile but it came out more like a grimace. He could not help it but to reach back to his old sarcastic self to protect himself.

"You think." He ran his finger through his hair and down his neck, it was one of his nervous gestures he had picked up from Harry. "I am… I…. I think I going to go home, I need to go home." He turned away from Albus who looked at him with eyes full of pity and melancholy.

"Go my boy. I will meet you there in an hour or two."

"Yeah sure."

With that Severus strolled down the corridors, the same road he came by not so long ago. He needed to go home and hide in his bed, but he could not do it just yet. He needed to figure out what he was going to tell his children when they ask where their father went, when he will be coming home. Because he knew he could not tell them what his mind whispered to him, for what his heart clenched painfully, his throat close up and his eyes fill with tears: NEVER.


	2. Chapter 2

1Title: **Forgotten Life**

Author: **SyberSnake**

Beta: **LostLenore**

Chapter 2 

Harry Potter rushed down St. Mongo's corridor as fast as he could in his injured state. It was not one of his best decision to leave behind his comfortable bed, but he knew he needed to be as far as he could from this place, these people.

He could not believe that Dumbledore would lie to him, again, but the absurdity of his statement was too much, him and Snape together. He felt like throwing up. How could a man say something like that, so soon after Sirius's death. It was all Snape's fault, his and the interfering old fool. The man never would tell him anything important, always lies and half truths. But to lie about something like that. What did Dumbledore think, that he, Harry could not even fathom what or how the old fool thought he would believe this outrage lie.

He, Harry Potter married to that bastard, slimy, greasy git, lying Slytherin snake, Death Eater. He shuddered at the thought of touching that man. For crying out loud, that was Snape. Nobody would touch him that way. He felt sick and not just from his injury. He could almost see _the man naked as his, Harry's hand ran down his side_. Oh my god what was his problem, he needed to get out of this place. He saw one of the emergency exits not far from him so he stepped up to it and opened the door.

As he stepped outside of St. Mongo's, the early night sky and chilly wind welcomed him. He felt himself waking up as he stood in one of London's dark alley. He needed to get away from here, he needed to think, and without really thinking he appareted away. It never really occurred to him that nobody had taught him how to do it.

He found himself in the side alley not far from his old _home_, Privet Drive. He felt drained, his legs trembled, his breathing was labored. He almost collapsed, he needed to prop himself up by the wall to be able to stand. He could hear Snape's voice dripping with sarcasm and malice: _Famous Harry Potter could not even apparate, how … embarrassing. Foolish Gryffindor. Ungrateful brat._ The man's deep voice was like a litany in Harry's mind, he could feel his own embarrassment, anger, rage and lust. WHAT! No, not lust. What the hell is wrong with him. He desperately shook his head to escape the voice which listed his every failure.

He looked up and around. He was not sure why he came here, but in a way this place was his home and prison for the longest time. He looked toward the Dursley's house and noticed something was not right, he could not put his finger on it, but something changed. His mouth felt dry, he hoped nothing had happened any of them, he may not like them, but he did not want them at Voldemort or the Death Eaters mercy. He started to walk toward the house to try and figure out what had changed.

He narrowed his eyes as he noticed the board in the front of the yard, he could not read what was on it, yet. As he moved closer, with every shaky step, he saw more and more change: his Aunt's garden was dried out, the lawn was too long, it hadn't been trimmed for a while. Despite the darkening night sky, no light crept out from the house. It had an air of neglect and desolation.

Panic crept up on Harry, what could have happened, had the Death Eaters found them, that's how Dumbledore laid it to him, his mind created the worst of scenarios: where his family was laying on the floor in their own blood, screaming and whimpering under Cruciatus. He tried to go faster but his legs almost buckled under him, but he could not stop, he needed to know what had happened.

Then he saw the board's dingy writing: FOR SALE. His eyes saw the words, his lips read them out loud, but his mind could not understand for a moment what they meant. He held out his hand toward the board with his fingers almost touching it, before he pulled them back. He looked up at the Dursley's house and for the first time this night knew it had been empty for a long time.

Hundreds of questions, if not thousands, swam around in his mind: the hows, the whys, and the whens and he did not have an answer for any of them. He needed answers, and he needed them now. But who could help him with it. Who…. The Weasleys. Yes, the Weasleys could help him to find the answers. With a last glance at the house he apparated to the Borrow.

As soon as he landed he fell to his knees, not just from fatigue but from the pain he felt in his heart at what he saw. The only place beside Hogwarts he really called home, had been destroyed. The remains of the once cheerful home was darkened by the fire that consumed it and left it desolated like a tomb.

"_Potter move. NOW!" screamed Snape's voice in his ear as he tried to pull him away from the burning house, Harry looked up with tear-filled eyes to see the Dark Mark a clear symbol on the night sky._

He pulled his thin robe tighter around him, like it would, could keep away these nightmarish … memories. He pulled himself to his feet and moved closer the ruin. The doorway was almost intact, only burned out, as he leant to it a new… memory assaulted him.

"_I should have been here." Harry cried and raged. _

"_You could not have helped them if you had been here. You would have died." Snape's voice tried to put a firm stop Harry's ravings. Harry could feel as Snape's thin long fingers grasp his shoulder, as Snape turn him toward him and pull him to his chest. Harry tried to get away from the man, tried to twist out of his hated teacher's embrace, but he could not and after a short while he did not even want too. He needed the support, he needed this to be able to fight back. As Harry turned toward the darkened ruin which radiated heat from the not so far away burning fire. He swore to God, to Merlin he would kill Voldemort._

Snape's words swam in his mind and replayed again and again _"You could not have helped them if you had been here. You would have died."_ As the words ran through his head, Harry's mind added it, the unsaid part. Oh, God someone had died, someone from his surrogate family was no more. Harry was not sure he could bear the thought that one of them had died. But he needed to know, he needed to know because he could not leave with that terrible uncertainly.

He could see what once was Molly's kitchen, some of the pots were laying on the floor. On the other side of the house he found the fireplace and a burned out couch. He felt his legs trembling, he slipped down onto the floor and pulled his knees up to his chest. What should he do now? Where should he go? Back to Dumbledore and Snape? Was the old man telling the truth or lying? He did not want to go back before he knew the truth, or before he remembered. He felt like something missing, some clue for the puzzle to be complete, so he could see what it showed. But who can help him? Ron, Hermione, Remus. But where were they, how to find them.

"_I want to kill him, and I need to find that bastard Snape!" Harry raged as he stormed into the Potion Master's room. Snape was wearing black trousers and a white shirt, which was opened. Harry could clearly see the man's white skin and the faint movement of muscle as he turned toward him. Harry felt himself flush, as he saw the man's annoyed gaze._

"_Please come in Potter. Make yourself at home!" Snarled Snape as he tried to button up his shirt. _

"_Sorry." Said Harry as he tried to avert his eyes from the white skin and delicate long boned fingers._

"_Conquisitio, is one of the most powerful spells, it requires a huge amount of energy and power to properly cast and you need to completely know the one you search, be it a property or person. You need to be able to remember every detail of the object of your search." Snape's silkly voice lectured Harry, but Harry could not entirely concentrate, he felt himself harden…_

"Conquisitio Ronald Weasley." Whispered Harry as he tried to visualized his best friend.


End file.
